


Castles, Psychics, and ... a Body in the Fish Tank?

by DinerGuy



Category: Castle, Psych
Genre: Case, Crossover, Gen, Humor, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-14
Updated: 2010-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-16 04:09:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinerGuy/pseuds/DinerGuy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard Castle heads to Santa Barbara to do some research on everyone’s favorite psychic detective. Will the gang still be able to solve a case, or will their week of fame go to everyone’s heads?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No copyright infringement intended. Castle and Psych and all their characters belong to the writers and networks not us.

Shawn Spencer had a focused and concentrated look on his face, a sight very few people ever saw. He was focused on the stack of waffles in front of him. “Gus,” He looked up at his partner across the table. “Are waffles one of those things where you have to cut along the lines?”  
  
Gus raised an eyebrow. “Since when have you ever cut along the lines? Your cutout map of California in the fifth grade looked more like Taiwan.”  
  
“Mrs. Abercrombie said to use autistic freedom,” Shawn objected.  
  
“Artistic,” Gus dutifully corrected his friend.  
  
“I’ve heard it both-” Shawn stopped and began staring past Gus’ head.  
  
“Ways?” Gus looked up from his bowl of granola when Shawn paused. “Shawn, what are you looking at?”  
  
“Doesn’t that guy look familiar?” Shawn pointed behind Gus.   
  
“Shawn, if this is just a way to get me to turn around so you can steal my strawberries, I am not going to be happy.” Gus turned in his chair. Behind him was a man in a shirt and dress pants. No tie and his hair was on the messy side. He was wearing sunglasses and flirting with the girl at the cash register.  
  
“Seriously, he looks really familiar.” Shawn had scrunched up his face in thought.  
  
“Shawn!” Gus hissed. “Oh my gosh, Shawn. Do you have any idea who that is?” He started rocking back and forth in his chair and making almost inaudible noises.  
  
“Gus, don’t be an eleven year old fangirl for the Jonas Brothers. If I knew who it was, I wouldn’t have asked you.”  
  
Gus reached for his samples case that was sitting on the floor beside him. He had been hoping to start on his route before Shawn abducted him for breakfast. Fishing a hardcover book out of the case, he hurriedly stood up.  
  
“Dude, what’s the rush? Did you forget to return that library book?”  
  
Gus ignored Shawn’s question and got up from the table. “Mr. Castle!” Gus rushed over to the man at whom Shawn had been staring. “Richard Castle? I am a huge fan of yours.”  
  
Richard Castle looked up from his conversation with the cashier as a young man hurried up to him. When someone said his full name in public, he was usually then assaulted by a motherly woman in her mid-forties armed with a Sharpie and the entire body of his works. To be approached by a young man in his early-thirties was a change, and the fact the man was carrying a first edition of  _In a Hail of Bullets_  was even more surprising.  
  
Reluctantly pulling himself away from the young woman, Rick offered a smile. “That would be me. What can I do for you?”  
  
“Mr. Castle, I am a huge fan of yours,” the other man repeated. “Would you mind?” He held the novel out towards the author, holding it as if it were a priceless ancient manuscript.  
  
Castle fumbled around in his jacket looking for a pen. Finding one he accepted the book and flipped to the title page. “Who can I make this out to?” He looked up towards the man, who was rocking on the balls of his feet.  
  
“Burton Guster,” Gus carefully enunciated his name.  
  
Castle looked up at Gus and he didn’t bother hiding the smile that played at his lips. “Are you sure?” Gus’s eyes started to cloud with anger at the jab at his name. “Because maybe this should be made out to Gee Buttersnaps, Lavender Goomes, Gus ‘Sillypants’ Jackson, or possibly even Gus Hollabackatcha.”  
  
Gus’s jaw dropped, and it took him several tries to get the question out. “Excuse me?”  
  
Shawn had gotten very curious when this man Gus seemed to like so much had used Gus’ nicknames, the very nicknames Shawn had created. He headed for where they were standing and heard the man continuing to talk to Gus.  
  
“Burton ‘Gus’ Guster, you work for Psych, the psychic detective agency that the Santa Barbara Police Department has hired.”  
  
“And I’m Shawn Spencer, the psychic detective.” Shawn put a heavy emphasis on the word ‘psychic’ as he interrupted them.  
  
“Ah, yes,” Castle smiled and looked Shawn over. “Your hair looks better in person; the pictures don’t really do it justice.”  
  
Shawn smiled and reached up to pat his carefully-styled hair. “Why thank you. Although I am curious as to how you know so much. You’re not a stalker, are you? Because Gus here is deathly afraid of stalkers-”  
  
Shooting Shawn a horrified look, Gus cut him off. “You can just make it out to Burton Guster, if you don’t mind.” He gave Shawn a kick in the shins as Castle gave them a confused look and signed the book.  
  
Shawn rubbed his shin, and then looked at the signature. “R. Castle?”  
  
“Richard Castle. You two can call me Rick though, since we’re going to be co-workers for the next week or so.”  
  
“Gus, you got us hired at a Renaissance Festival?” Shawn pouted. “You know I have to okay any outside jobs.”  
  
“Richard Castle is a writer, Shawn.” Gus sounded utterly offended for Castle at Shawn’s wisecrack. “He wrote the Derrick Storm novels and just started writing a new series starring Nikki Heat.”  
  
Shawn pulled a face. “Nikki Heat sounds like a stripper name.”  
  
“That’s what Beckett said,” Castle mumbled under his breath.  
  
“So, if we’re not working at a festival, why are we working together?” Shawn persisted. “Because Gus can’t write anything other than pharmaceutical reports and Lassiter burned the last short story I wrote into a pile of ash.”  
  
“Shawn, you know he only did that because you wrote about him going on an assignment in Norfolk and marrying the goth girl from NCIS. You know how he hates that show.” Kicking Shawn again, Gus turned to Castle. “Why are you in town? New York is a long way from Santa Barbara.”  
  
“Wow, Gus, you get an A+ in geometry,” Shawn grumbled, still upset over the jab at his writing.  
  
“Geography,” Gus and Castle corrected him at the same time.  
  
“I’m here to do some research for a novel I’m writing for charity,” Castle explained, holding out a flat palm to Gus. Gus stared at it. “Feed the Birds?” Castle asked, getting distracted by Gus’ confused face. “Like this.” He took his other hand and made a bird beak out of it and proceeded to have one hand ‘eat’ out of the other hand.  
  
“Ooohhhh,” Gus said, immediately reaching out a hand to ‘feed the birds’. “Who are you researching?”  
  
"Me, Gus." Shawn raised a hand to his temple. "The spirits are telling me Ricky is very interested in me, and not just for my awesome hair line and impressive high score on Pong."  
  
“That’s true.” Castle was giddy as he watched Shawn’s charade. “I’m writing a story about a psychic detective and since I’ve got a friendship with the mayor, I pulled some strings and took a two week vacation.”  
  
Gus’s expression could only be described as delighted. “You’ll be researching us? For two weeks?”  
  
“Me; he’ll be researching me for two weeks, Gus,” Shawn corrected.  
  
“Well, only a week; unless you guys get a really cool case, I was going to head down the coast to LA as well. I’ve got some friends down there I’d like to visit.”  
  
Gus nodded solemnly. “Have you thought up a name for your character yet?”  
  
Castle nodded. “I’m planning on using the name Alex Syte. Lots of good book titles to get out of that: Future Syte, Second Syte, Hind Syte.”  
  
Shawn made a face at the name. “Really? Isn’t it a little cheesy?”  
  
“Haven’t you read any of my books? I live off horrible puns,” Castle assured him.  
  
Gus nudged Shawn in the ribs. “You’re the one who convinced Lassie that Thesealion was a French name.”  
  
Castle raised his eyebrows. “Thesealion, I like it.” He checked his watch. “I’ve got another hour or so before I’m supposed to be meeting with a Detective Lassiter. What’s he like?”  
  
Shawn and Gus looked at each other and then turned back to Castle.  
  
“Let’s just say the man would never shoot a cat,” Shawn began.  
  
“Unless it approached him in a threatening manner.”  
  
“Or it had wronged him somehow.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Chief,” Carlton Lassiter was almost whining as he learned that the rumors were true. Best-selling mystery author Richard Castle would be in Santa Barbara for the next week, providing yet another source of annoyance for detectives who were simply trying to do their jobs.  
  
“No objections, detective. The mayor is a long-time friend of Mr. Castle, and besides,” she made eye contact with the head detective, “the proceeds will go to a children’s cancer research charity. It’s for the children, Carlton.”  
  
Lassiter sighed; there was no getting out of this one. “Chief, I’ve looked up interviews on the internet. The man is a giant child. Worse than Spencer, if that’s possible.” He mumbled the last part, earning a glare from Vick.  
  
“It’s for the children,” she repeated as she ushered him out of her office.  
  
Exiting the chief’s office, Lassiter stalked over to his desk. His partner Juliet O’Hara was just as bright and cheerful as ever this morning; she was excited to be working with Castle. Lassiter inwardly made a face. How could anyone be excited to be working with a writer that made cops look like idiots or prostitutes?  
  
“Morning,” Juliet greeted her partner. She stopped in front of his desk and waited for him to respond.  
  
“What is it, O’Hara?” Lassiter half-snapped. “I’m trying to get some actual police work done before Spencer and Castle show up and ruin my week.”  
  
“How do you know Castle will be so bad?” Juliet loved to see the glass half-full side of things. “Maybe you’ll like him.”  
  
“The interviews I’ve seen are ridiculous,” Lassiter mumbled.  
  
“Well, you of all people should know that interviews don’t always show the whole person a lot of times,” Juliet shrugged.  
  
Lassiter scowled at the memory of the numerous interviews that he’d given, all of which had seemed to go awry. “How would you know?” He glared at her while continuing to organize the files on his desk.  
  
“The people who know you best are your co-workers,” Juliet reminded him as she headed for her own desk.  
  
Lassiter stared at her retreating back as an idea formed in his mind. If co-workers know you the best, who better to call than the police force with whom Castle worked? They would surely be competent enough to give Lassiter a hint of Castle’s personality. Then it wouldn’t be a surprise when the man arrived. Lassiter hated surprises.

* * *

Kevin Ryan jumped as the phone on Beckett’s desk rang. “Where’s Beckett?” he asked Esposito.  
  
“Down in the morgue with Lainie.” Javier Esposito looked up from the file in his hands as the phone rang for a second time.  
  
“Think we should answer it?”  
  
Instead of replying, Esposito reached over and hit the speaker button. “This is Detective Esposito.”  
  
On the other end of the line, Lassiter paused for a moment and double checked the name on the Post-It in his hand. After doing a little research online, he had discovered Castle worked with a Detective Kate Beckett. “I’m calling for Detective Beckett,” he said after a moment, regaining his train of thought.  
  
“Beckett’s not here right now; she’s down in the morgue. You wanna leave a message?”  
  
“This is Head Detective Carlton Lassiter of the Santa Barbara Police Force. I was just calling about Richard Castle.”  
  
Ryan and Esposito shared a look and Ryan smirked.  
  
“What’s Castle gone and done this time?” Ryan finally asked, trying to hide the laughter in his voice. “We told him to be on his best behavior over there.”  
  
“He actually hasn’t arrived yet.” Lassiter’s voice crackled over the speaker.  
  
The look Ryan gave Esposito said that this opportunity was much too good to pass up. “Well, when he does be sure and tell him hello from us.”  
  
“We miss him terribly,” Esposito added for emphasis.  
  
Ryan winked at his partner and continued. “Things won’t be the same without Crazy Castle here.”  
  
“Crazy Castle?” Lassiter repeated, thoroughly confused.  
  
“Yeah, we kind of figured he’d earned that nickname after that one case ... You remember that one?” Esposito directed the question at Ryan.  
  
“The one with the break in?” Ryan let a small laugh escape, but recovered quickly.   
  
“Yeah, the break in at his apartment. He put that perp in the ER faster then you could say broken radius.”  
  
“And that other time,” Ryan continued. “Remember when he nearly blew up the break room?” He gave his partner a wink.  
  
“That was horrible,” Esposito agreed. “There were shards of coffee mugs everywhere. Don’t let him near your coffee machine. The man is a menace.”  
  
Lassiter was almost believing the stories they were telling him, but the explosive fit of giggling made him scowl. “Is there an adult there?” he growled.  
  
“Who are you two talking to?” a new voice cut in.  
  
Ryan and Esposito turned to see Kate Beckett striding towards her desk and shared a slightly guilty look.  
  
“Uh, well, see uh ... it’s for you,” Ryan offered, pointing at the phone.  
  
“This is Head Detective Carlton Lassiter of the Santa Barbara Police Force. I was hoping to speak to Detective Kate Beckett about Richard Castle.” Lassiter’s voice floated through the speaker again. He sounded annoyed, and Beckett made a face at the two detectives smirking at each other.  
  
“This is Detective Beckett,” she answered, picking up the receiver to give herself some privacy. “The break in and coffee machine incident?” She sounded puzzled and looked up at Ryan and Esposito, who were hovering not far away.  
  
Esposito gave her a wink, and Beckett rolled her eyes as she realized what was going on. “Yes, Richard Castle is a departmental hazard at times. Don’t ever mention sporks to him; it’s a celebrity thing. He gets offended. The last time we did, he threatened to sue us for emotional distress.” She paused for a moment, listening to the voice on the other end. She smiled and then put on her serious voice. “Yes, Richard Castle is an excellent shot. If he were to hold a gun, I would feel secure knowing that my life was in his hands.”  
  
Ryan snorted in laughter and then grunted as Esposito elbowed him in the ribs.  
  
“Yes, anytime, Detective. Thank you.” Beckett couldn’t help giving the other two a smirk of her own as she hung up.  
  
As soon as the call was ended, Ryan and Esposito broke into laughter.  
  
“An excellent shot? Castle?” Esposito gasped. “If he were to hold a gun, I’d run the other way.”  
  
“Screaming in terror like a little girl,” Ryan clarified.  
  
Beckett shook her head in amusement. “They’ll probably end up sending him back before the week’s over.”  
  
“Five dollars says he’s back in five days,” Esposito announced, looking between Beckett and Ryan.  
  
“Only five?” Ryan crossed his arms. “Well, I’ve got ten that say he’ll be back in four.”  
  
“Make it twenty, and I say that Castle stays away the full two weeks,” Beckett added, grabbing the coroner’s report from her desk.

* * *

Shawn bounded up the front steps of the station. “C’mon, if we’re late Lassifrass will freak and probably throw a mug against the wall. He did that just last week when Gus put paper clips in his coffee.” He and Gus had concocted a lengthy list of stories about Lassiter and his temper, which they had gladly shared with Castle on the way to the station.  
  
“You threw the paperclips while you were trying to beat McNab at station basketball,” Gus corrected, forgetting the story wasn’t actually true.  
  
Castle gave them a wary look as the three men entered the station. It only took a few minutes to get visitor passes, and then Shawn started giving Castle a tour of the station, beginning with Juliet’s desk.  
  
“And this is the lovely Juliet O’Hara,” Shawn beamed as he introduced the junior detective. “She’s old Lassifrass’ partner.”  
  
“Detective Lassiter’s partner,” Juliet translated for Castle as she shook his hand. “You must be Richard Castle.”  
  
“I am,” he replied with a wink.  
  
“Oh, and over here is Buzz!” Shawn continued, dragging Castle towards the tall officer. “Not only is Officer McNab an exemplary uniform wearer, he’s also the MVP of the station’s softball team.”  
  
Buzz grinned in excitement as he shook hands with the writer and flushed a little at Shawn’s compliments. “Mr. Castle, sir, it’s an honor to meet you. My wife and I are big fans of your books.”  
  
“Why aren’t any of my New York fans men?” Castle jokingly demanded. “It seems the New York fans are all women with a husband and three kids.”  
  
“I really don’t know, sir,” Buzz replied, shrugging.  
  
“I’m just kidding with you,” Castle clapped Buzz on the shoulder. “The men are usually the stalker fans.”  
  
“See Gus, you didn’t need to worry about him being a stalker; he thought you were one instead.” Shawn smirked and then continued with the tour. “And here is the awesome Chief Karen Vick.” He gave a mock salute as Vick walked out of her office.  
  
“Mr. Castle.” The chief shook his hand. “Pleased to meet you; your books are very good.”  
  
“New York fan,” Castle muttered to Shawn before giving the chief a winning smile. “I’m glad to hear that. And before we go on, let me just say how much I appreciate being allowed to do my research here in Santa Barbara. After last year, I would have thought Detective Beckett might have blacklisted my name in every station coast to coast.”  
  
“Not to worry, Mr. Castle; we’re glad to have you. Please let me know if there is anything you need this week.”  
  
“Ah, we’ll be fine,” Shawn told her, slinging an arm around Castle’s shoulders. “Now where is Head Detective Carlton Lassiter?”  
  
“He’s down at the range, I think,” Juliet volunteered. She remembered seeing him head downstairs after getting off the phone with New York. He hadn’t even told her what Detective Beckett had said. “I’ll go get him.” She hurried off to fetch her partner.  
  
“Chief!” Shawn turned back to Vick. “I’m sensing you have a case for us. Most likely something completely awesome and satisfying for a world-renowned psychic like me and a best-selling writer like Ricky.”  
  
“Mr. Spencer, the only case open for investigation at the moment is the string of convenience store robberies.”  
  
“The security firm that does the cameras. There’s a Gina that works for their phone bank. She’s been copying pass codes.” Shawn shook his head. “C’mon chief, give me something exciting.”  
  
“You can solve a case just like that?” Castle asked, clearly impressed.  
  
“Well, not always. But the spirits are in a giving mood today; I think they like you a lot, Ricky.”  
  
Juliet returned with Lassiter, who was giving Castle a skeptical look.  
  
“Richard Castle.” Castle held out a hand, introducing himself first, just like Shawn and Gus had instructed him to do so.  
  
“Head Detective Carlton Lassiter.” Lassiter might have said more, but at that moment Buzz came over carrying a note.   
  
“We just got a call,” the officer said. “They found a body in the aquarium.”  
  
“All right; a body!” Castle exclaimed, then immediately sobered as everyone looked at him. “I mean ... I’m sure the person’s family is going to have a difficult time with the news.”  
  
Lassiter glared at the writer as he gave out orders. “O’Hara, you’re with me; any consultants and researchers can ride separately.” He stared pointedly at the three men who weren’t carrying badges.  
  
Shawn blinked at him innocently. “Lassie, just because you have a fear of sitting in the same car with two heads of amazing hair, it doesn’t mean you can be snappy like a turtle.” He leaned over to Gus and half-whispered to his friend. “Turtles snap, right?”  
  
Gus nodded. Lassiter just rolled his eyes and stalked out the door.  
  
As Castle followed Shawn and Gus out to the Blueberry, he began formulating ideas. “What if it was a shark attack?”  
  
“Can’t be; we had a shark attack last year.” Shawn told him.  
  
“Giant killer octopus? Sharktopus?” Castle suggested.  
  
“Now that would be cool! I would pay to see that,” Shawn remarked.  
  
“No, Shawn, you would make me pay for us both to see that. Besides, they already made it into a SyFy original movie,” Gus corrected him.  
  
“Is that what you were watching?” Shawn asked. “I thought that was a Mythbusters marathon.”  
  
“I know!” Castle interrupted, snapping his fingers. “It was Flipper’s evil twin, a dolphin that goes by the name Zipper. He’s got a big scar down the side of his face.” He mimicked with his hand. “He probably smokes and moves life buoys around for unsuspecting swimmers.”  
  
“Or maybe it was the Care Bears,” Lassiter snapped at them. He’d been reluctantly listening in since they were parked next to each other. “Just get over to the aquarium without getting lost or sidetracked.”  
  
“Lassie don’t be Grumpy Bear; it couldn’t be the Care Bears,” Shawn scoffed. “They aren’t real. Have you ever seen a Care Bear stare? Of course not, because if you had, you would have been killed by the sheer goodness that it holds.”  
  
The head detective just rolled his eyes again and slammed his car door. Shawn watched as the Crown Vic sped out of the lot.  
  
“I don’t think he liked that very much, Gus. Lassie must not be up to date on his children’s cartoons and scary sci-fi monsters.”  
  
“Shame,” Castle commented. “Shotgun!”  
  
Shawn scowled as Gus jumped in the driver’s seat, leaving him the tiny cramped backseat. “Just don’t drive over the Golden Gate Bridge on the way. In case it was a shark.”  
  
“That’s not even on our way, Shawn.” Gus shook his head.  
  
“Well, if it was, don’t drive over it. You never know what lurks in the water below.”  
  
“It’s the lost city of Atlantis or the Enterprise, depending on your cup of science fiction tea,” Castle informed them.  
  
“Atlantis is in the Pegasus galaxy,” Shawn pointed out.  
  
“Oh,” Castle paused. “You haven’t seen season five, have you?”  
  
Shawn immediately clapped his hands over his ears. “I have it on the DVR,” he half-shouted. “I just haven’t had time!”  
  
“At least it hasn’t been canceled like my favorite sci-fi western,” Gus put in.  
  
“Umm, it was,” Castle broke the news to them. “And the western never should have been canceled. I’ve been a space cowboy for Halloween for the past five years. You know what they say; once a brown coat, always a brown coat.”  
  
Shawn glared at him. “Dude, seriously, no spoilers. Do you have any other shows you want to ruin for me? How about Quantum Leap?”  
  
“Oh, well, in that one, Sam -” Castle stopped at the death glare Shawn was shooting him through the rearview mirror. “Oh look! The aquarium.” He pointed out the window.  
  
Gus turned into the large parking lot, which was strangely empty for the middle of the day. He parked beside the police cars, and the three men climbed out of the Echo. Shawn stretched dramatically.  
  
“I sure hope my psychic senses aren’t too cramped after that,” he grumbled, emphasizing the word ‘cramped’. “I’ll just have to squeeze it out somehow.”  
  
“Shawn, stop whining.” Gus ignored him and headed for the entrance.


	3. Chapter 3

Lassiter and Juliet were already inside, talking with the aquarium director. Since Randy Labayda had been arrested a few years before, the aquarium had gotten a new director and was currently trying to expand their programs.  
  
The new director was short and stocky, with hair that was greying at the temples. Shawn could hear him talking with the detectives.  
  
“I got here this morning and the night watchmen were just leaving. I asked them to do one more sweep of the property - we’ve had trouble with kids throwing stuff over the fence - and that’s when we found him.” The director gave an involuntary shudder. “He was floating face down in the beluga whale tank.”  
  
Shawn gave Castle a smug look. “Told you it wasn’t a shark.”  
  
“Did you notice anything unusual?” Lassiter asked. “Either when you first got here or when you found him in the tank?”  
  
“No.” The man shook his head profusely. “It was all normal. Even the watchmen didn’t notice anything before finding the body.” He wiped a hand across his face.  
  
“When was the last time anyone checked the tank?” Lassiter had his arms crossed and was letting Juliet take furious notes.  
  
“Uh, at some point last night. You’d have to ask the watchmen to be sure.”  
  
Lassiter caught sight of the three men approaching and didn’t bother hiding a grimace. “All right, thank you. We’ll have more questions for you later.”  
  
“Aw, don’t go,” Shawn protested, hurrying up only to have Lassiter blocking his way. “C’mon Lassie, let me in on the action, my psychicnicity is raring to go.”  
  
“It’s for the children,” Juliet echoed the chief’s words at Lassiter.  
  
Lassiter glared at her and then turned to head towards the beluga whale tank. “Just stay out of my way, all three of you. And if anyone falls in, I am not fishing you out.” He gave them a threatening look over his shoulder.  
  
“He’s bluffing, he would use his expert swimming skills to save us.” Shawn said, giving Castle a solemn nod. “I bet you don’t have any expert swimming skills. Oh look, Gus! Frozen yogurt!” Shawn pointed excitedly at the small closed-up cart next to the tank with all the crime scene tape around it. “Shame with the murder and all. I didn’t get to eat my waffles since you were fan-boying.”  
  
“It would be delicious,” Castle admitted. Gus was too busy looking queasy to respond. “What’s wrong with him?”  
  
“Fish,” Shawn nodded, continuing to look at the frozen yogurt cart. “Man, all they have to eat the yogurt with is those fork, spoon hybrid love-child things.”  
  
“Sporks,” Gus supplied.  
  
“NO!” Lassiter shouted, causing everyone in the vicinity to look at him.  
  
“Right,” Castle gave Lassiter a worried look. He turned his head to whisper to Shawn. “Are you sure he’s as mentally stable as you said he is?”  
  
Shawn nodded slowly. “Fairly sure. He has his days.” He turned to Lassiter. “Lassie, just because the spork is a hybrid does not make it any less of an eating utensil than its love-stricken parents. Sporks have feelings too.”  
  
Lassiter had tensed up at the word ‘spork’ again, but when Castle didn’t flinch he slightly relaxed. Maybe it was only the sight of a spork that would set him off on a celebrity rampage that would fill the front pages of People Magazine.  
  
Shawn turned towards the beluga whale tank, putting his hands up to his temples. “I’m sensing the victim was not a park employee, but he was connected to the park,” he shouted, spotting Juliet’s open notepad from the interview with the director.  
  
“The victim was a fish,” Shawn continued, sounding distant. “No, not a fish.... phill, mill, gill..... Gilliam?”  
  
“That’s a Monty Python,” Castle looked confused at Shawn’s train of deduction.  
  
“Gillford!” Shawn proclaimed. “Not a snake, but the spirits are indicating that he was a donor.”  
  
“Spencer, stop pulling names out of thin air,” Lassiter grumbled at the psychic.  
  
“But I’m not, Lassieface,” Shawn protested. “Even the whales agree that this man was a special part of the aquarium.”  
  
Lassiter rolled his eyes. “So now you can speak to whales?”  
  
“I’ve seen Finding Nemo twelve times,” Shawn rolled his eyes at Lassie. “But it doesn’t matter because that’s humpback. I was only saying he’s special to them, because why else would you put someone’s name on your glass house?” Shawn jerked across the yellow tape in a psychic spasm and planted his hand on the bronze plaque near the tank.  
  
Castle grinned at the sight of the plaque, which displayed the name Edward Gillford as the benefactor behind the exhibit.  
  
“Edward Gillford?” Gus had recovered from his momentary nausea. “He’s one of the richest men in the city. His investment group is worth millions.”  
  
“So why would the whales kill him?” Shawn sounded confused. “If he helped build their house, they should be grateful.” He studied the creatures carefully. “I don’t think they can even hold guns,” he informed the others.  
  
“Mr. Gillford was shot post mortem,” Juliet told them. “We’re waiting on the coroner’s report to give us an official cause of death.”  
  
“And the whales aren’t on our suspect list, Spencer,” Lassiter said, exasperated by the whole conversation.  
  
“Oh that’s right, Lassie; I forgot. We don’t accuse whales; we accuse sharks.” Shawn couldn’t resist poking fun at the head detective.  
  
“I thought it was a shark.” Castle raised his hand, pulling it back down at the looks from the others. He cleared his throat. “I mean, I thought it was a shark attack, not that the shark was only accused.”  
  
“It wasn’t a shark attack; it was murder. That was the whole basis for my theory,” Lassiter snapped at them both. “Now back up; I have actual police work to do.”  
  
Shawn gave Lassiter a mock salute. “Yes sir, Detective Dipstick.”  
  
“Oh, I like that.” Castle had his PDA out and was making notes in it.  
  
“It’s copywritten,” Lassiter said quickly, glaring at Shawn.  
  
“So,” Gus spoke up, trying to get the others back on track, “we have a dead guy in an aquarium who was shot after he was killed, and he makes millions of dollars a year.”  
  
“Hmm, I guess this gives a whole new meaning to swimming with the fishes,” Castle mused. Not even Shawn laughed at that pun. “What?” Castle shrugged his shoulders. “Beckett likes my jokes.”  
  
“Are you three done?” Lassiter demanded, crossing his arms and glaring at them.  
  
“Gus, I’m getting a vibe that Lassieface doesn’t want us around any longer,” Shawn announced. “To the Blueberry!” He motioned dramatically with his arm and led the way to the entrance. “Oh, and Ricky, shotgun!”  
  
Shawn took off running and nearly plowed into an aquarium employee who had just entered the building.   
  
“Watch it!” she protested as she steadied herself against the wall.   
  
Shawn did a quick glance. She wasn’t tall, but she wasn’t short either. Her blond hair was messy and she could have easily fit into The Crocodile Hunter if she’d had an Australian accent.  
  
“We are so sorry,” all three men chorused at the same time.  
  
Shawn glared at the other two. “Shawn Spencer, psychic detective,” he introduced, holding out his hand.  
  
“Kayla Brown, otter wrangler.” Kayla shook his hand. “If you’ll excuse me, the twins will get upset if I don’t get them their urchins soon.”  
  
“Otters?” Gus spoke up. “They’re one of my favorite parts of the aquarium.” He sidled closer to Kayla. “I think their laughs are adorable.”  
  
“Didn’t you once run screaming out of a school field trip because an otter ‘looked at you funny’?” Shawn asked.  
  
“Otters are fascinating,” Castle put in. “Although penguins are my second favorite animal at the aquarium. Which reminds me, the last time I was at an aquarium, the Los Pedros Quincenera in Mexico, I was able to visit with my third favorite animal. The dolphin. Those are as easy to ride as horses.”  
  
Shawn slapped Gus on the arm. “April told me dolphin-back riding was illegal.”  
  
“Well,” Kayla gave them a very confused look, “I’d better be going. Nice to meet you guys.”  
  
“See what you did, Gus?” Shawn complained as the young woman disappeared around the corner.  
  
“Me?” Gus protested. “You’re the one who brought up that field trip debacle. And, for the record, the only reason I ran out - yelling - was because my mother made me wear a purple shirt that day, and the otters thought I was an urchin.”  
  
“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, buddy.” Shawn patted him on the back, then pushed ahead to get to the passenger side of the car ahead of the others.


	4. Chapter 4

“Where exactly are we going?” Castle asked from the squished confines of the back seat.  
  
“Gillford Investments,” Shawn answered, glancing back towards the writer.  
  
“Shouldn’t we wait for Lassiter and Juliet?”  
  
Shawn scowled slightly at Castle’s use of O’Hara’s first name. “We go there first and get a reading, psychically of course, and then wait for the detectives to arrive. Sometimes my mind operates faster then regular people,” he explained careful to watch his wordings. Castle still had to believe he was a psychic.  
  
Within ten minutes, they were pulling into the parking lot of Edward Gillford’s financial firm. Gus found a parking space, and they made their way inside.  
  
The secretary at the front desk looked up as they walked in. Her eyes were red and slighty puffy, but she gave them a small smile. “How can I help you gentlemen?”  
  
Shawn glanced at the name plate on her desk before turning to the woman. “Good afternoon, Elizabeth.” He placed a comforting hand on the desk near hers. “My name is Shawn Spencer and these are my associates Gimli Washington and Isaiah Fursenburs.”  
  
Castle gave Gus a confused look but didn’t interrupt Shawn’s process.  
  
“I understand that this is a very difficult time for you; Edward was a dear friend of the aquarium, and we were shocked to hear of his death.”  
  
Elizabeth hiccuped as she fought back more tears. “Ed- Mr. Gillford loved the aquarium. He visited there as a child, and when he became sucessful, he gave them as much as he could afford.” She hesitated. “At least he did.”  
  
“You mean because he’s dead,” Castle put in at the secretary’s correction of her tense.  
  
Another round of hiccups met their ears. “No,” she managed to get out. “Mr. Gillford almost lost his entire company a few months ago, and he couldn’t afford to give them money this year.”  
  
Gus made a small strangled noise. “No Gillford donation? But that means no Peter Penguin hour.” He sounded highly distressed at this revelation.  
  
Shawn turned to his friend. “Dude, Peter Penguin? That sounds like a three o’clock cartoon.”  
  
“No, Shawn.” Gus corrected him. “Since Shabby died, Peter Penguin is the last surviving member of the Santa Barbara Aquarium’s original animals.”  
  
“That would make Peter Penguin almost ninety years old,” Castle put in, quickly doing the math.  
  
“Well, this Peter isn’t the original Peter, but it’s the name that counts.”  
  
Shawn wasn’t paying attention to Gus any more. He was looking at a framed picture from a ground breaking ceremony outside the aquarium. “When was this taken?” he asked Elizabeth while he continued to study the picture.  
  
“About three years ago. That’s when the beluga whale tank was built.”  
  
“Who is this girl here?” Shawn pointed to the blond aquarium girl from before. Gillford was standing with his arm around her waist.  
  
Elizabeth looked more closely at the picture. “That’s Mr. Gillford’s niece, Kayla Brown. She works at the aquarium.”  
  
“With the otters,” Shawn murmured. “Well, thank you for your time, Elizabeth. Don’t worry; the spirits are telling me everything will work out alright.”  
  
She sniffed and nodded. “Thank you, Shawn.”  
  
“No problem,” Gus cut in, giving her a smile he hoped was both reassuring and charming at the same time.  
  
Once they were out in the parking lot, Shawn turned to Gus. “Peter Penguin? Really?”  
  
“Yes, Shawn,” Gus defended. He opened his mouth to say more, but once again Shawn wasn’t listening.  
  
“You know,” he stared at the building in front of them. “Elizabeth was an upset spirit, but when we bumped into Kayla this morning, she seemed normal.”  
  
“What if she didn’t know about her uncle?” Castle suggested.  
  
“A dead guy gets dumped in a beluga whale tank where you work and you don’t bother finding out who it is?” Shawn gave the writer a skeptical look.  
  
Castle gave a shrug of agreement. “True. So if that’s the case, why was she only focused on her job?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Shawn was still thinking, “but I do know that we should go visit Lassisota and check out what he and Jules have done.”  
  
“Doesn’t Detective Lassiter ever get mad when you call him nicknames?” Castle asked as they climbed into the Blueberry once again.  
  
“He knows it’s because I care deeply for him,” Shawn explained seriously, then broke into a smile. “Besides, the shades of red you can make him turn are inspiration for Gus’ painting class.”

* * *

Juliet sifted through the dozens of files that Lassiter had made McNab pull for their case. If Gillford’s name was even mentioned, Lassiter had pegged the people involved in the case as prospective suspects.  
  
“Carlton, there’s nothing in these that would point to a murder.” O’Hara told her partner, frustrated with the whole process.  
  
“Gillford’s killer is in those files, O’Hara.” Lassiter said firmly.  
  
McNab nervously approached the head detective’s desk. “Sir, the aquarium director is down in room A, like you requested.”  
  
“The director?” Juliet turned to Lassiter once McNab was out of ear shot.  
  
Lassiter shrugged. “It was public knowledge that Gillford intended to leave a substantial amount of his wealth to the aquarium. No one would benefit more from his death, then the director.” He started to head for the interrogation room and turned back to her. “Look for anything in those files that points to a criminal history of the director.”  
  
Nodding, Juliet abandoned the files and typed the director’s name into the system. Letting the computer run the search, she looked up from her monitor and found herself staring into a pair of hazel eyes.  
  
“What’d you and Lassie find, Jules?” Shawn asked as Juliet jumped in surprise.  
  
“Shawn, that is none of your business and how many times have I told you not to do that? It is really creepy.” She gave the psychic an annoyed look.  
  
“It is a little like watching people sleep,” Castle pointed out, earning a scowl from Shawn.  
  
The computer dinged as Juliet’s search ended.  
  
“What’d you get?” Shawn craned his head over the top of the computer screen, trying to see the results. “Gus, our culprit was obviously Greek or Russian; this doesn’t look like English.”  
  
“I know a little Russian. Do you want me to take a look?” Castle offered.  
  
“Shawn, let Juliet finish.” Gus chided his best friend.   
  
“Dude, Ricky was just as interrupting as me,” Shawn scowled from his still half-upside-down position.  
  
“It’s in English,” Juliet informed them. “And I could tell you what it said if you moved your head out of my way.”  
  
Shawn reluctantly stood straight again.  
  
“The aquarium director, Aaron Sikorski-”  
  
“He is Russian!” Castle broke in, earning a glare from both Juliet and Shawn.  
  
“He was charged with assault ten years ago, but the charges were dropped.” Juliet waved at McNab who was hovering in the background. “Take this down to Lassiter.” She handed the officer a print out of Sikorski’s record.  
  
Just then, Juliet’s phone rang, and she shooed them away so she could answer it. Shawn gave Gus and Castle a grin and then began to follow McNab down to the interrogation rooms.  
  
“Are we supposed to be down here?” Castle asked quietly as Shawn ducked into the observation room.  
  
“The spirits are drawing me to this conversation.” Shawn shrugged. “I can’t help where they lead.”  
  
“Beckett would kill me if I snuck into an interrogation,” Castle told him. “Although most of the time I get to sit in on them and ask the important questions.”  
  
“Dude, Jules is upstairs. Gus and I are not going to be impressed by those kinds of lies.” Shawn sounded half annoyed, half mocking.   
  
Gus elbowed his partner in the ribs. “That is fascinating, Mr. Castle.”  
  
“Rick, please,” Castle corrected him. They grew silent as Lassiter reentered the interrogation. He’d stepped out into the hall when McNab had brought him Juliet’s findings.  
  
“Well, well, well,” Lassiter drawled as he circled the table. “Seems like someone in this room wasn’t giving us the truth when we discussed criminal records and I,” Lassiter placed a hand on his chest for emphasis, “have never been arrested, which means that the only other person who could be lying is you.” He sat down across from Sikorski and glared at him.  
  
Behind the mirror Castle swallowed nervously. “Is he always like this?”  
  
“Only when the suspect is easy to crack; you should see him really get going,” Shawn murmured back.  
  
Sikorski looked confused. “I’ve never been arrested.”  
  
Lassiter slammed a hand down on the table, causing the three men behind the mirror and Sikorski to jump. “Don’t play games. Seattle, Washington 1997. You were charged with assault in a bar fight at Mimi’s All Nighter.” Lassiter raised an eyebrow and waited for Sikorski to give a response.  
  
“Those charges were dropped. The guy hit me over the head with the bottle and I was knocked unconscious.” Sikorski frowned. “Do you think I killed Gillford?”  
  
“I don’t know, did you?” Lassiter crossed his arms.  
  
“This isn’t going to get anywhere,” Shawn whispered to Gus. “The guy didn’t do it.”  
  
“Plus, who wants to listen to Lassiter yell at a guy for the afternoon?” Gus agreed.  
  
“C’mon, I want to visit those otters again.” Shawn grabbed Gus by the arm and dragged him out of the observation room.


	5. Chapter 5

“You know,” Castle began as the three headed out to Gus’ car, “we should talk to Gillford’s attorney.”  
  
“Why would we do something as ridiculous as that?” Shawn rolled his eyes.  
  
“Because, if Gillford gave large amounts of money to the aquarium every year, his attorney was most likely involved with his finances.” Castle explained, ignoring Shawn’s eye roll.   
  
“That is true, Shawn,” Gus pointed out. “It wouldn’t hurt.”  
  
Shawn crossed his arms. “Gus, don’t be a 75% off item at a Black Friday sale.”  
  
“Shawn, just because Rick had a better idea than you doesn’t mean you need to be upset,” Gus told him.  
  
“We don’t even know who his lawyer is.” Shawn smirked triumphantly. “Unless the spirits are able to help me divine the answer.” Wiggling a hand by his head, Shawn announced, “I’m getting the name ...”   
  
Castle had his iPhone in his hand. “According to Google, Mr. Gillford was represented by the law firm of Hawthorne, Johnson and Smyth.” He looked up with a smile. “I guess the spirits were using another search engine.”  
  
Shawn made a face. “But can it tell you which lawyer was Gillford’s?” As Castle looked back at y this phone, Shawn continued, “I’m sensing it was ... Nathaniel Hawthorne.”  
  
“Winston,” Castle corrected.  
  
“I’ve heard it both ways,” Shawn shrugged. He ducked under Castle’s arm and opened the passenger door. “Let’s go question Mr. Hawthorne about his client.”  
  
Within fifteen minutes, the Echo pulled into the parking lot outside of the office building that housed the law firm. Shawn led the way inside.  
  
Castle looked around the large lobby. “You know this reminds me of a case-”  
  
“No one is impressed by your cases.” Shawn cut him off. “Unless you’ve uncovered buried treasure, I don’t want to hear about it.”  
  
“Well, that was a different case.” Castle smiled at the memory. “Our suspect was a priest who wore tassel loafers and-”  
  
“He did it,” Shawn said decisively.  
  
“How could you know that from his shoe description?” Gus protested, annoyed at Shawn’s interruption.  
  
“Because Gus, tassels serve only one purpose on shoes, evil,” Shawn hissed, looking very uncomfortable about the subject.  
  
“He was part of the crew that was guilty.” Castle admitted.  
  
“See?” Shawn shot Gus a triumphant look.  
  
“Let’s just talk to Mr. Hawthorne and then get something to eat. We never got any lunch.” Gus pointed Shawn in the direction of the reception desk, where a woman was sitting reading a book.   
  
Shawn started towards the desk, but Castle grabbed onto his sleeve.  
  
“Let me handle this one,” He winked at Shawn. He walked quickly over to the desk. “Excuse me. I’m here to see Mr. Hawthorne.” He gave the receptionist a bright smile, flirting shamelessly with her.  
  
The receptionist looked up over the top of her book. “And who may I say is waiting for him?” She gave Castle a confused look.  
  
Castle didn’t let his smile falter and grabbed the book out of her hands. He turned the back of the book to show the woman. “Richard Castle, you may have heard of me. I write mystery novels.” He gave her a wink.  
  
“Mr. Castle!” The woman’s voice squeaked out in surprise.  
  
Shawn turned to Gus. “Why does everyone think his books are amazing?”  
  
“Just because your dad never let you read anything fun doesn’t mean the rest of the world doesn’t enjoy a good mystery book.”  
  
“I can solve a mystery book as soon as the guilty person is introduced and before they are I know what their motive is,” Shawn complained.  
  
Gus just shushed him and turned his attention back to Castle.  
  
Shawn pouted for a second and then sidled up next to Castle. “I’m Shawn Spencer, psychic detective. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.” He ignored the slight head shake the woman started to give him. “I’ve solved over fifty cases for the police department and now Mr. Castle is writing a novel about me.”  
  
Castle let Shawn take over the conversation and pulled out his phone.  
  
“I’m currently in a dispute with my landlord about whether my use of the retail space he rents me is appropriate.”  
  
“I thought you took care of that months ago?” Gus looked confused.  
  
Shawn just kicked him in the ankle. “I was hoping I could speak to Mr. Winston Hawthorne about the situation?” he continued, smiling convincingly at the woman.  
  
“Mr. Hawthorne isn’t a real estate lawyer,” she told him, narrowing her eyes in confusion. “But I could put you in touch with -”  
  
“Spencer!” Lassiter’s annoyed voice rang out in the lobby.  
  
Shawn swung around to see Lassiter and Juliet striding across the hardwood floor in their direction. “What are you two doing here? I’m the psychic.”  
  
“O’Hara got a text from Castle saying you three hooligans were at the law firm.”  
  
Shawn looked over to Castle, who shrugged.   
  
“What? I’m used to working side by side with the police. I can’t help my habits.”  
  
“I am Head Detective Carlton Lassiter and this is Detective Juliet O’Hara,” Lassiter announced, turning to the receptionist. “ We’re with the Santa Barbara Police Department, and we need to speak to Mr. Winston Hawthorne regarding an ongoing investigation.”  
  
The woman gave Castle a grin. “This is so exciting, just like one of your novels.” Lassiter rolled his eyes as she continued, “Unfortunately, Mr. Hawthorne isn’t in the office today.”  
  
Lassiter shot Shawn, Gus and Castle a whithering look. “When he gets back, make sure he contacts us.” He handed her his card.  
  
“To be fair, Lassie, she never told us he was out of town,” Shawn pointed out, hurrying to catch up with the detective as he left the law firm. “If she had, I wouldn’t have had Ricky text you to come and see him.” He gave Castle a glare.  
  
“Spencer, why don’t you take Guster and Castle and go do something else.” Lassiter stopped walking and turned abruptly, almost causing Shawn to collide with him. “O’Hara and I will work the case. I know; you can take Castle to visit your dad.” He smirked at the idea of the older Spencer meeting the writer.  
  
“Yeah.” Castle liked that idea. “Having a crime-fighting father-son team would be a nice angle for my story.”  
  
“I’m sure Shawn’s dad could give you lots of information on how a team like that would work,” Gus assured him, giving Shawn a worried look.  
  
“My dad? Gus, are you sure we’re talking about the same person?” Shawn blinked. “You know, Henry Spencer? Likes fishing, spoiling any method of fun, and shirts that insult the color wheel?”  
  
Gus waited until Juliet and Lassiter were safely in their car before answering Shawn’s question. “Castle is writing about a psychic who is a real police detective. Your dad always wanted you to be an actual cop,” he quietly reminded his friend about his dad’s ambitions.  
  
Shawn’s face fell. “Oh.... yeah....”  
  
“C’mon,” Castle urged them, clearly excited about getting to meet Shawn’s dad. “This will be awesome research.”  
  
“Awesome,” Shawn and Gus chorused, sharing a concerned look over the roof of the car as Castle got in the back seat.


	6. Chapter 6

Shawn considered taking Castle to meet a random old person somewhere in the city. Even if that person denied knowing Shawn, it would be a better situation then actually having his dad talk to Castle. Henry Spencer hated mystery novels just as much as he hated comic books. He hated the way they trivialized police procedures and romanticized criminals. Shawn glanced in the back seat where Castle was writing furiously in his notebook.  
  
“What’s your dad’s name again?” Castle asked, looking up at Shawn.  
  
“Talmadge MacGulager,” Shawn replied automatically.  
  
“Henry,” Gus corrected, rolling his eyes.  
  
Castle nodded, writing it down as they pulled into the driveway at Henry’s house. “Is this where you grew up?” He looked around the beach front.  
  
“Yup,” Shawn mumbled and trudged slowly to the door.  
  
The door swung open before Shawn could knock, ring the doorbell, or barge in without announcing himself at all. Henry Spencer gave his son a very confused and concerned look.  
  
“This had better not have anything to do with puppies, women, or police evidence,” he started to lecture Shawn.  
  
“What if it was about women dressed as puppies posing as cops?” Shawn countered.   
  
Henry ignored his son’s comment as he noticed Castle standing on his porch. “Oh no, Shawn; this is not going to be another ‘let’s hide the suspect or victim at my dad’s house because then Lassiter won’t find him’ situation.”  
  
Shawn caught the look on Castle’s face and quickly cut off any reply from the writer. “Please, Dad, I can’t just bring someone over to your house unless he’s in trouble?”  
  
“The only person you bring over who isn’t in trouble is Gus, and even that is debatable.” Henry stepped aside to let them in. “So unless this guy is a friend of yours, something is up.”  
  
“I wouldn’t really call him a friend,” Shawn started to say.  
  
Castle looked a little hurt at that statement, but held out his hand the Henry . “My name is Richard Castle. I’m doing research on your son for my next mystery novel.” He obviously expected Henry to be impressed with any or all of that statement.  
  
Henry rolled his eyes and glared at his son. “A mystery writer? Shawn, that’s no better than bringing me a suspect!” He turned on Castle. “Do you have any idea how many problems people like you cause for cops? You write about a killer, and all of a sudden sixteen cities around the country are faced with copycats. You think it’s nothing, just a plot in a book, but you write some of the sickest ways to kill people. Half the people that write mystery novels should be committed into psych wards before they end up killing someone for real.”  
  
Castle looked taken aback by the lecture he’d gotten. Gus looked ready to tear up at any minute.  
  
“Dad,” Shawn interrupted, “can I talk to you privately?” He pulled his dad into the living room.   
  
“Wasn’t expecting that,” Castle murmured to Gus as the two Spencers headed for the next room.  
  
Gus gave him an apologetic look and sniffled a little before trying regain his composure.  
  
Henry let himself be half-dragged into the living room. “A novel, Shawn?” He started lecturing his son before Shawn could explain anything.  
  
“Dad, it’s something the department wanted. Apparently the sales from the book go towards children’s cancer research. I don’t know exactly, but he gets to follow me around for a week doing research.” Shawn shrugged. “Gus knows better than me; why don’t you go all Spanish Inquisition on him?”  
  
Henry sighed and crossed his arms. “Just make sure he’s on board for this psychic charade you insist on using.”  
  
“He’s sold, hook, line and sinker.” Shawn assured his dad. He winced. “I can’t believe I just used a fishing metaphor.”  
  
Rolling his eyes, Henry shook his head. “Fine. Why is he at my house?”  
  
“Ricky needs to do research on my childhood,” Shawn replied.  
  
“And I wanted to explore the possibility of having a father-son team as my main characters,” Castle added, strolling into the room.  
  
Gus followed, looking a little more hesitant.  
  
Henry raised an eyebrow. “A father-son team?” He looked to Shawn.   
  
Castle nodded. “I mean, you’re a retired cop, and my character is a cop, but he could have a retired cop father.”  
  
Henry was still looking at Shawn. “I think that sounds like a great idea,” he said pointedly.  
  
“Wait, what happened to ‘mystery novels are cop mockers and bringers of doom’?” Shawn objected.  
  
Gus punched his best friend in the arm. “I think it’s a great idea, too.”  
  
“Dude,” Shawn looked offended, “seriously? You love being a freelancing psychic duo.”  
  
“Rick isn’t going to make you a cop, just his character,” Gus clarified. “And I think that adding a father to the story will offer a lot more room for character development. Plus it’s something his other characters don’t have.” He glanced over at Castle.  
  
“Exactly,” Castle said, noticing the obvious objection Shawn had towards the father-son dynamic. He opened his mouth to say something again, but the ringing of his cell phone cut him off. He looked at the caller ID and his face lit up. “Excuse me, I need to take this.” He headed for the porch, answering his phone as he went. “Castle.”  
  
Henry turned to Shawn as soon as he heard the door close behind the writer. “So I hear you two are on a new case now?”  
  
Shawn nodded. “They found a body in the beluga whale tank at the aquarium this morning.”  
  
“The news said it was an investor,” Henry prompted.  
  
“Yeah, he donated a bunch of money to the aquarium over the past years, and this year he wasn’t going to be able to.”  
  
“They might cancel Peter Penguin,” Gus added.  
  
“They would also have less money, Gus.” Shawn pointed out.  
  
Henry shook his head. “Shawn, don’t get caught up in the money. Sometimes the answer is closer to home than you think.”  
  
Outside, Castle was catching up on the station gossip from the past few days. “How’s the station? Has Beckett been missing me?”  
  
Esposito and Ryan laughed on the other end of the line. “Bro, she’s been back to her old self. Although,” Castle could hear the mirth in their voices, “she’s been wanting cappuccinos more than usual.”  
  
“And that motorcycle guy’s been hanging around a lot lately,” Ryan put in.  
  
“Yeah ... Come to think of it, she’s even left early a couple of times,” Esposito informed him. Castle could almost see him raising his eyebrow at Ryan.  
  
“How early is early?” Castle asked, preparing for the worst. Then he heard the small throaty laugh of someone losing control of a straight face. “Seriously guys?”  
  
“Beckett would never leave work early,” Ryan chided him. “I can’t believe you fell for that. She’s fine, we’re solving cases, and you’ll be back in a couple of days.”  
  
“Or four days, if you want me to be ten dollars richer,” Esposito added.  
  
“Just call me if anything real happens, since Beckett is probably going to win that bet.” Castle grumbled and hung up the phone. He headed back into the house and found Shawn and Gus sitting at the kitchen table, each with a plate of waffles.  
  
“What? I still didn’t get any breakfast,” Shawn defended himself as Castle quirked an eyebrow at him.


	7. Chapter 7

Castle sat on a chair in front of Lassiter’s desk. Shawn and Gus had left him there when they had snuck down to the morgue to get the details on the victim. They had told him the coroner was a crotchety old man who was likely to murder Castle for trespassing. Castle wasn’t sure if he believed them, but he had to admit he wasn’t used to the fast pace of Shawn’s detecting style. At least Beckett paused for coffee breaks.  
  
Lassiter purposefully dropped a large file on his desk to watch the writer jump in surprise. “Where’d the bumbling idiots go?” he snapped as he flipped through the file.  
  
Castle wasn’t sure if he should tell the head detective about the morgue trip, so he instead shrugged. “They said something about a roller-skate game of lacrosse and croquet.”  
  
“What -” Lassiter began, then stopped. “Never mind; I don’t want to know.”  
  
Castle shook his head. “Dr. Seuss, How the Grinch Stole Christmas?” When Lassiter continued to look puzzled, Castle sighed. “No one reads the classics any more.”  
  
Lassiter ignored that comment and continued his study of the case file.   
  
Castle’s curiosity got the better of him and he began reading the file upside-down. “You know what’s weird about this whole case?” he asked after a few moments.  
  
Lassiter looked up from his file and raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Gillford was murdered and then dropped in the whale tank. Who shoots someone and then dumps the body in a beluga whale tank?” Castle furrowed his brow. “Why not just let the body fall where it was?”  
  
Lassiter continued to look at Castle. “What are you saying?”  
  
Castle continued. “And why dump it in the tank to get rid of it? It was sure to be found as soon as someone passed by.” His eyes lit up. “Imagine this, Gillford gets a call in the middle of the night. Someone wants to meet with him at the aquarium, maybe it’s the director wanting to plead for money, or another employee begging to keep their job. However it plays out, the deal goes south and Gillford is shot. The person panics and watches in horror as the body plunges into the whale tank.”  
  
“There’s one problem with that,” Juliet broke into the story Castle was weaving. “Who brings a gun to an aquarium?”  
  
“I would,” Lassiter replied the same moment Castle said, “Beckett.”  
  
The conversation died, and Castle was surveying the station when he saw Shawn and Gus sneaking up from downstairs, just as Lassiter was getting ready to turn around.  
  
“Detective,” Castle blurted out, knowing he should keep the two consultants from being caught.  
  
“What?” Lassiter scowled.  
  
“I was thinking about having the chief of police in my book be of Irish descent.” Castle didn’t have time to think of a better excuse. “I was hoping you could tell me something about yourself, so I can have a clear picture in my head when I write.”  
  
Lassiter rolled his eyes. “Let me clear time during my murder investigation to spill my life story to you.”  
  
“Could you at least tell me what kind of gun he would carry?” Castle was grasping at straws. Juliet was giving him a confused look and even Shawn and Gus were staring at him, forgetting completely they were supposed to be sneaking out.  
  
At the mention of firearms, Lassiter was refocused. He reached in his desk and pulled out a yellow legal pad. Castle saw his own name on the pad before Lassiter scratched through it.  
  
“Congratulations Castle, you just got yourself off the crap list.” Lassiter gave a small smile and then, putting the list away, pulled his gun out of his shoulder holster. “This is what I would carry,”  
  
Shawn winced as he saw Lassiter pull the gun out. “I don’t know which is worse, Gus. Being on Lassiter’s crap list, or not being on it.”   
  
Gus nodded and tugged on his friend’s shirt sleeve. “Come on, let’s go talk to that otter girl again.”

* * *

“Man, I just can’t stop thinking about Ricky.” Shawn admitted as he and Gus exited the station. “We left him to sit through a Lassie gun lecture.”  
  
“The man asked for it, now what did you find out in the morgue?”  
  
“Dude, you were there with me.” Shawn frowned.  
  
“You know I can’t concentrate when there are dead people in the room. The last thing I remember was Woody offering us free tickets to the Springsteen concert next weekend.”  
  
“Which we totally should have taken,” Shawn pointed out.  
  
“They were from a dead guy’s pocket!” Gus objected.  
  
Shawn shrugged. “It wasn’t like he was going to need them back.”  
  
“Just tell me what Woody said.”  
  
“Something about how the gunshot was post mortem. Gillford also had a couple of drugs in his system. One was for heart problems and the other was an over the counter allergy suppressant. And Gillford’s blood alcohol level was pretty high as well.”  
  
Gus raised an eyebrow. “That has to be what killed him; mixing medications is bad enough, but when you add alcohol to the mix, it would definitely be fatal.”  
  
“That’s what Woody said,” Shawn nodded.  
  
“And you don’t take those medications without knowing that. There are brightly colored labels all over the bottle.”  
  
“Are you saying someone poisoned him?” Shawn gave Gus a doubtful look.  
  
“I’m saying if he took both medications it wasn’t an accident. Either he was poisoned or he took them himself.”  
  
“Why would somebody shoot him if he was already dead?” Shawn continued to give Gus a doubtful look.  
  
“Why would anyone cancel Peter Penguin?” Gus countered.  
  
“I’m just saying, it seems kind of weird.” Shawn shook his head as he climbed into the Blueberry.

* * *

Castle was beginning to think he should have let Shawn and Gus get caught by Lassiter. If the duo had been spotted, Castle would have been able to spend the past hour and a half of his life doing something besides listening to the Head Detective. Lassiter had gone on and on about Glocks, firing pins, bullets and even had broached the subject of holsters (the detective favored shoulder holsters to hip holsters) before being called away by the chief.  
  
“O’Hara,” Lassiter snapped as he came out of the chief’s office, “we’re heading down to the morgue to go over the final autopsy report.” He grabbed a cup of coffee out of Buzz’s outstretched hand. “McNab, you’re on baby-sitting duty.”  
  
Castle watched the rookie cop give a small nod before he came over and stood by Lassiter’s desk.  
  
“Do you want any coffee, sir?” McNab asked, giving the writer a smile.  
  
“I’m good, but thank you.” Castle sat for a moment in thought. “Funny case,” he mused aloud.  
  
McNab nodded. “Very peculiar.” He looked over at Castle. “I suppose the aquarium got lucky though.”  
  
Castle quirked his head at that comment. “What makes you say that?”  
  
McNab flushed slightly and stumbled through his explanation. “Well, you know, because if the death had been ruled a suicide, then the life insurance wouldn’t have paid out. Without any life insurance, Gilford had no money to leave with his will.”  
  
“McNab, you’re a genius.” Castle clapped him on the back and ran for the stairs to the morgue. He ran into Lassiter and O’Hara, sending papers in every direction as the head detective fell back down the four stairs he’d already stepped up.  
  
“Castle, you just made the crap list again,” Lassiter growled as he picked himself up off the floor.  
  
“Just listen.” Castle ignored the angry glare Lassiter gave him. “What if Gilford’s death was a suicide covered up by a murder?”  
  
“Wait, what?” Juliet looked confused.  
  
“Gillford had lost everything. He was probably going to have to file for bankruptcy if things didn’t improve soon. A situation like that can be a terrible strain on a person so used to a life of luxury,” Castle explained excitedly. “What if he snapped, gave into the pressure? He kills himself, and someone finds his body. That someone knows that the insurance won’t pay out if Gillford dies of suicide - but he’s already gone and there’s nothing they can do about it.”  
  
“So, they shoot the dead body and dump Gillford in the whale tank!” McNab finished.  
  
Lassiter rolled his eyes. “That’s nothing more than a load of crock. Save your crazy theories for the mystery novels.”  
  
Juliet slapped her partner on the arm. “It makes sense; you saw the coroner’s report. Those medications weren’t supposed to be mixed. Anyone taking them would have been aware of that fact. I’m sure Gus would tell you the same thing.”  
  
“Since when does Guster work for a pharmaceutical company?” Lassiter snapped. “Speaking of those two, where the heck have they gotten to?”

* * *

“I still don’t understand why it took us forty minutes to get ice cream before we could go talk to Kayla again,” Gus griped at Shawn as they walked into the aquarium.  
  
“Don’t be the hole stopped up by a marshmallow in the bottom of my ice cream cone, Gus. You know the only ice cream shoppe I visit is the one across town. It is farther to drive, but I get free cones since I solved that case for them.”  
  
“You mean since you exorcised their walk-in freezer?” Gus shook his head.  
  
Shawn opened his mouth to respond but paused when he saw Kayla across the way. He waved to her and rushed over. “Kayla! We were just in the neighborhood again and thought we’d come see the otters. Do you think you could tell us more about them? Gus here seems to think that they are related to ferrets.”  
  
“You were the one who was confused about that,” Gus scowled.  
  
Kayla gave them a confused look. “I-”  
  
“Exactly, that’s what I told him,” Shawn cut her off and sighed dramatically. “I told him they’re life-long enemies and would attack him in the night for suggesting such a ridiculous assumption.”  
  
“Otters and ferrets are related; they’re both Mustelids,” Kayla informed them.  
  
Gus elbowed Shawn in the ribs and smiled at Kayla. “Thank you for clearing that up.”  
  
“Well, now that that’s out of the way,” Shawn continued, smacking Gus as he did so, “we were hoping you could answer a couple of quick questions for us about your uncle.”  
  
Kayla gave them a tight-lipped smile. “Sure, I guess. I thought the police already arrested the director.”  
  
“We’re just covering all our bases,” Shawn assured her. “Is it true your uncle was completely broke and if he died, the aquarium wouldn’t get any money?”  
  
Kayla looked taken aback. “Uncle Ed had fallen on some hard times, but he was turning things around. He was hoping to make his donation to the aquarium twice as big as normal when the market turned around.”  
  
Shawn gave Kayla a sympathetic look. “I’m sure he would have.” He gently placed a hand on her shoulder.  
  
“Did he ever talk to you about his will?” Gus asked, giving Shawn a glare.  
  
She shook her head. “Uncle Ed didn’t like me to know about his business things. He said he wanted me to enjoy my job without worrying about money.” She shrugged. “What I know, I looked up on the internet.”  
  
“Once again, I’d like to say how sorry we are for your loss,” Shawn told her. He grabbed Gus’ sleeve. “C’mon Gus, my psychy sense is tingling. We should head back to the station.”  
  
Gus started to object, but Shawn just kept pulling him towards the exit.


	8. Chapter 8

Shawn was deep in thought as he and Gus drove back to the station.  
  
“What’re you thinking about?” Gus asked.  
  
“Just what my dad said, about how I should look closer to home. What if I actually have to look at home?”  
  
Gus raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”  
  
“What if Kayla Brown went to visit her uncle? I know he was supposed to meet with her. It was on his date book.”  
  
“Are you saying she killed him?”  
  
“No, I’m saying she shot him. It’s a very different matter. Oh! Jappa Dogs. Please Gus?” Shawn pouted at his friend.  
  
“You know that’s right,” Gus responded as he pulled off the road.

* * *

“So, if Castle’s theory is correct,” Juliet was standing in front of the case board she and Lassiter had put together, “then that eliminates the aquarium director as a suspect. There’s no way he would have known about Gillford’s will.”  
  
“You’re actually taking that story seriously?” Lassiter shook his head. “It was cooked up by a paperback writer and McNab.”  
  
“Don’t doubt Buzzby’s super crime solver mind,” Shawn scolded Lassiter as he and Gus walked up to the group. “He solved the case of that diamond smuggling ring.”  
  
Castle looked at Shawn. “I think I figured out motive.”  
  
“It wasn’t murder,” Shawn began.  
  
“It was suicide,” Castle countered.  
  
“Covered up by a gunshot.”  
  
“To make collecting insurance money easier,” Buzz added.  
  
“And when Kayla Brown realized she had no idea how to make things better, she shot her dead uncle and dropped him into the whale tank,” Shawn finished.  
  
“Okay, we hadn’t thought that far.” Castle paused in thought. He smiled in what could almost be described as glee. “But it works even better than what I was thinking.”  
  
“Well, you can’t use it.” Shawn immediately said. “It’s copy written to me and Gus.”  
  
“You can’t copy write a motive,” Lassiter rolled his eyes.  
  
“Thinking like that is why when Ricky publishes his book, I’ll be getting 5% royalties and you’ll be getting nothing, Lassifrass.”  
  
“I think we should at least check up on the niece,” Juliet put out, trying to get everyone back to thinking about the case.  
  
“We can’t charge her with anything until we find actual evidence,” Lassiter reminded them all. “Evidence that isn’t a touchy-feely psychic vision or a hair-brained mystery novel plot.” he added as both Shawn and Castle started to object to his statement.  
  
“We’re going to need more than probable cause,” Juliet translated.   
  
“Exactly, O’Hara, you’re with me. Let’s go talk to the niece again.” Lassiter pointed a threatening finger at the three consultants. “And if any of you three moves so much as a muscle, I will shoot all of you.”  
  
Shawn blinked innocently. “Lassie, I don’t know why you always feel the need to give such warnings, but you have to realize that none of us are Twister champions. Eventually we’re going to move. It’s a proven fact. I read about it in that magazine they leave in doctors’ offices. Gus, what’s the name of it?”  
  
“National Geographic,” Gus supplied.  
  
“Yes, National Geographic, the one with the maps and pictures of monkeys,” Shawn added. “I mean, c’mon Lassie, we’re not Greek statues ... Well, I might be, but have you seen Castle’s abs? Definitely not Greek statue material.”  
  
Castle half-glared at Shawn as the psychic explained everything. It didn’t matter, because Lassiter had already headed to the door with Juliet hurrying after him. Shawn watched them go, then turned back to Gus and Castle.  
  
“All right, that got rid of them. C’mon, Kayla takes lunch at this time every day.”  
  
“How would you know that?” Gus shook his head.  
  
“Because Gus,” Shawn pointed at his head. “I’m a psychic, remember?”  
  
Gus rolled his eyes. “Yes, Shawn, I remember. You remind me on every case we work.”  
  
“Don’t we have to wait for the detectives to get a warrant?” Castle’s face was a mixture of confusion and worry.  
  
“We would, if we were the lame psychics, like Simon Baker.” Gus pointed out.  
  
“Your face is a lame psychic!” Shawn replied automatically.  
  
“Really? A your face joke?” Gus shook his head.  
  
“I thought legal procedures were part of being a consultant.” Castle had his notebook out.  
  
“Well, technically they are,” Gus said.  
  
Shawn suddenly went boneless, crumpling to the floor. “Gus! Gus, it is too much for me to handle.”  
  
“What’s going on?” Now Castle looked genuinely worried.  
  
“Gus, I’m having a vision!” Shawn continued to half shout from the floor. “The otters, they’re not doing well at all. They might meet the same fate as Shabby.”  
  
Castle now looked less worried and went back to scribbling down notes as Shawn continued to squirm on the floor.  
  
“What are you talking about, Shawn? Shabby was killed by drug runners and treasure hunters.” Gus didn’t sound worried; if anything he sounded frustrated and a little sad.  
  
“It’s all about the drugs!” Shawn half sobbed, taking his vision to the next level. “Kayla has to get rid of the drugs. The only way she can get rid of them without the police finding out is to dump them someplace.”  
  
“In the otter exhibit?” Gus exclaimed, horrified, as he grabbed for his keys. “Shawn, she will not kill innocent little otters. I have to save them, for Peter and Shabby, Shawn. I have to save them!”  
  
Castle and Shawn hurried after Gus. Castle barely had his seat belt fastened before Gus sped off towards the aquarium.  
  
“Dude, slow down,” Shawn gripped the arm rest, a little worried about the vendetta on which he had started his friend.  
  
“Pip and Pop are at stake, Shawn.” Gus replied, not taking his eyes from the road. “There is no slowing down.”  
  
“Take a left up here, it’s a short cut,” Castle called from the back seat.  
  
“You aren’t even from around here!” Shawn turned to see the writer on his phone.  
  
“Google maps,” Castle flashed the screen in Shawn’s direction. “Oh, and when we’re done, there was a really delicious looking Chinese place on this block too.”  
  
“Crab Rangoon, what!” Shawn gave Castle a fist bump, only to be thrown forward in his seat as Gus made the turn.  
  
In only a few minutes, Gus was throwing the car into park in the aquarium lot.  
  
“Dude, we should get a season pass with how often we’ve been here this week,” Shawn said, climbing out of the passenger seat.  
  
Castle exited the vehicle behind him, looking slightly shaken. “It might save you some money, then you’d be able to visit here more often. I hear whales are really relaxing for people with driving issues.”  
  
“I don’t have driving issues, and besides I already have a pass,” Gus called back, focused on getting through the gate.  
  
“Why am I not surprised?” Shawn shook his head and chased after his friend, Castle right beside him.  
  
They sprinted to the building where the otter exhibit was located. Kayla Brown was there in her khaki outfit. She started as the three men burst through the door.   
  
“Drop that bucket!” Gus shouted at her, pointing his car remote in her direction.  
  
Kayla’s eyes went wide and she dropped the bucket, the contents spilling on the floor, causing an upset squeaking from the otters, who had been waiting on their snack. “What is going on here?” She looked a little panicked.  
  
“You were going to kill those otters with a deadly concoction of over the counter and prescription drugs!” Gus was out of breath at this point.  
  
Castle and Shawn were standing to the side, wondering if they should intervene.  
  
“What?” Kayla asked, though she didn’t sound confused at all.  
  
“Gus, buddy, that remote isn’t going to do much. I think we’re already past the panic stage, and unlocking a person just sounds weird.” Shawn tried to calm his friend down.  
  
“Nobody move!” Lassiter yelled as he and Juliet burst through the door with their guns drawn. “What is that noise?” He paused as the otters continued to complain about the intrusion.  
  
“They’re adorable otters,” Gus shouted over the squeaking, which only got louder.  
  
“Forget about the otters. I’m the psychic here!” Shawn objected. “Who told you where we were?” he shouted at Lassiter. Then putting the pieces together, he turned to Castle. “Ricky? Really, dude? You know that isn’t how we roll. I’ve explained it to you already.”  
  
“Habits are hard to break in three days,” Castle defended himself.  
  
“Can we get back to the real reason we’re here?” Gus’ tone was on edge. “She’s gonna kill those poor little otters like she killed her uncle!”  
  
“My uncle?” Kayla asked.  
  
“Yes, your uncle,” Now it was Castle who spoke up. “You found him slumped over his desk when you went to visit him. You knew that he had been depressed, and the bottles of drugs on the desk were enough to tell you he’d committed suicide.”  
  
“With it being a suicide,” Shawn cut in, “there would be no way to collect on his multi-million dollar life insurance policy. Without that money, the aquarium would get nothing from your uncle. They would be forced to cut programs -”  
  
“Like Peter Penguin,” Gus interrupted indignantly.  
  
“Yes, like Peter Penguin,” Shawn glared at his friend. “So you shot his body and brought it here to the aquarium to dump. You were just going to leave it someplace out of the way, but you slipped while carrying it, and down it went into the whale tank, like Timmy down the well, if Timmy had ever been on Flipper, and the well was the ocean.”  
  
“You weren’t strong enough to fish him out,” Castle took Shawn’s idea and ran with it, “so you left it there to be discovered in the morning, just as you were showing up to work like you do every day.”  
  
“And you were planning to hide the evidence that it was really a suicide in the one place no one would think to look.” Gus crossed his arms. “In the snack foods of poor innocent baby otters.”  
  
“Guster, give it a rest. Those otters are full grown,” Lassiter snapped, holstering his gun and pulling out his handcuffs. “Besides, we found the drugs in her apartment.”  
  
Gus turned to Shawn. “You said the drugs were here,”  
  
“I never actually said that buddy,” Shawn held his hands up. “You just assumed, and you know what they say about assuming.”   
  
“Yes, I do, Shawn. I also know what they say about people who live in glass houses.”  
  
“They shouldn’t throw stones?” Castle looked very confused.  
  
“Exactly, and I don’t live in a glass house,” Gus was glaring at Shawn.  
  
“Dude, I would have told you,” Shawn started backing up towards the door. “I promise I was going to tell you, but you were on the Shabby rampage and you know that I know you still get choked up about that case.” He ducked out the door, running for the car.  
  
“Exploiting my love for ocean life is not okay, Shawn!” Gus exclaimed, running after him.  
  
Castle turned to look at Juliet and Lassiter as the duo left. “Well, this never happens in New York.”  
  
“Oh give it a rest, Castle.” Lassiter snapped as he led Kayla to his car. “You work with a bunch of yahoos, too.”  
  
As if on cue, Castle’s phone rang. “Speaking of yahoos, I need to take this.” He answered the call and listened for a moment. “No, I am not getting on the next flight home. I don’t care if you’re willing to split the money with me. Pay up to Beckett.”


	9. Chapter 9

"C'mon Gus, we're gonna be late!" Shawn shouted back at his friend as he bounded up the steps to the station. It was three months after Castle had left Santa Barbara and the pre-release copy of the writer’s new book had been mailed overnight to the station for the duo to read. “We have to see what rugged description Ricky gave Alex Syte, Psychic Detective Extraordinaire.”  
  
“You’ve never even read one of Rick’s books.” Gus complained as they walked through the doors.  
  
“No need, Gus! I can sense that Ricky is an amazing writer.” Shawn brushed off the complaints.  
  
Before Gus could point out that Shawn wasn’t actually psychic, they had reached Lassiter’s desk. The head detective was leaned back in his chair and had his feet propped up on the desk. He was completely absorbed in the book in his hands, which bore the name Richard Castle across the top.  
  
“Dude, Lassie, why are you reading that book? Where’s the new Alex Syte novel?” Shawn looked around the desk as if the book was hiding under one of the stacks of files.  
  
Lassiter ignored the psychic, until he had come to a stopping point and slipped his finger between the pages to mark his place. “This came with the book; it was addressed to you.” He handed Shawn an envelope and resumed reading.  
  
Shawn gave Lassiter a confused look and then ripped open the letter. He scanned the words before looking back up at the head detective with a raised eyebrow. “Lassifrass, you really are going to have to work on forging signatures more. It’s all about the letter A.”  
  
Gus snatched the letter out of Shawn’s hands and scanned it as well. “This is no forgery, Shawn, look.” He pulled the book Castle had signed out of his bag and compared the signatures.  
  
“But,” Shawn looked a little hurt and offended, “why would Ricky change his character, after all we went through, and all I taught him?”  
  
Gus read through the letter more thoroughly. “He says his new character is named Ben McNeally.”  
  
“This McNeally character is actually a pretty good detective.” Lassiter butted into the conversation. “Castle followed my list to the letter, well almost. The stakeout in chapter five is ridiculous.”  
  
“Let me see that!” Shawn grabbed for the book.   
  
Lassiter let him have it, after putting a proper bookmark in place.  
  
“Dude, he based his character on Buzz McNab!” Shawn burst out after flipping through a few pages and reading the inside cover.  
  
“That’s what the letter says.” Gus told him.   
  
“That’s impossible,” Lassiter looked upset as well. “This character has to be based on me, with a few of the rough edges sanded down.”  
  
“It would have to be a power sander,” Gus muttered, upset over being interrupted.  
  
“Buzz!” Shawn called the rookie over.  
  
Buzz came over to them from his post at the front desk. “Hey guys! Did you get a chance to look at the new book? The cover looks pretty cool, kind of a baseball and cop theme.”  
  
Shawn turned the book around to look at the cover. “Rookie Year. Dude, it has to be on McNab.”  
  
Now it was Buzz’s turn to look puzzled. “You mean, Mr. Castle actually wrote the book about me? He made a joke about it on the way to the airport, but I thought he was going to base it on you.”  
  
“Oh, you’re in there, Spencer.” Lassiter actually laughed at that point. “There’s a psychic who has a best friend, and he helps solve parts of the case.” Lassiter emphasized the word parts.  
  
“Just parts?” Shawn turned to Gus. “Didn’t Ricky follow us around for the whole case?” Gus nodded.  
  
“Oh!” Buzz had taken the book from Shawn and was now reading the dedication. “‘To Shawn, Gus, Lassie, Jules and Buzz. Santa Barbara will always be my station away from home.’ Well isn’t that nice.” He looked up to the others.  
  
Before any of the other three could say anything, Juliet joined them. “Is that the new book? Did Rick change the character like he was thinking about?”  
  
Shawn swiveled in place. “You knew he was changing the character, and you didn’t tell me?”  
  
“He made me promise not to tell.” Juliet defended herself.  
  
“Why would he change the character?” Gus asked, looking a little like a lost puppy. “No one has explained that yet.”  
  
The four of them turned to Buzz, who shrugged. “We were just talking in the car on the way to the airport.”  
  
“Talking about what, Buzz?”  
  
Again Buzz shrugged. “We talked about LBC, Francie’s dream of getting a bigger house, which I said was only going to happen if I got made detective. Then he asked what my goals in life were.”  
  
“And?” Juliet prompted.  
  
“And I said how I wanted to be a detective but,” Buzz paused and looked at Lassiter briefly, “but I felt like I wasn’t given a chance to put in my ideas aside from a few cases here and there.”  
  
“You work plenty of cases,” Lassiter said gruffly. “You got to work the case with the diamond smugglers.”  
  
Juliet gave her partner a glare before turning to Buzz. “Well, next time you want to work a case you just let me know. I’m sure Lassiter can handle one by himself.”  
  
“Officer McNab, aren’t you supposed to be watching the front desk?” The chief snapped out as she came up to the group.  
  
Buzz ducked his head and hurried back to his post.  
  
“Aw, give him a break, chief. He just got to be the main character in a best-selling author’s book.” Shawn gave a grin. “Not that he knew that was going to happen and that the real main character of the book is still Alexander Syte, Psychic Detective.” He muttered the last part so only Gus could hear.  
  
“I received my own copy of Mr. Castle’s newest book, and I’ve already read through it, Mr. Spencer.” The chief gave a small smile. “It certainly puts the department in a good light, and Mr. Castle was very complimentary about us to the mayor.”  
  
“Well, at least something good came out of the whole experience,” Shawn mumbled.  
  
The chief laughed. “He also wanted me to give you this.” She handed Shawn another letter.  
  
“What is it with this guy and letters?” Shawn shook his head and ripped open the envelope. “GUS!” Shawn shouted excitedly as he reached the end of the letter. “How would you like to go on a trip to New York? Ricky wants us to go visit him.”  
  
Gus’ mouth went into a perfect O.  
  
“Chief, this is ridiculous,” Lassiter objected. “I will not miss work here, so that I can run around New York with a novelist.”  
  
Shawn stuck his tongue out at Lassiter. “He didn’t invite you, in fact,” Shawn found his place in the letter and read out loud. “‘I’m sure Detective Lassiter is objecting to the very idea and wants to stay in Santa Barbara to fight crime. He can stay, along with Juliet if she’s needed. Just bring Gus and his perfect cocoa roundness of a head.’ Okay I added that last part,” Shawn admitted before continuing to read. “‘And come join the gang in New York for another case full of research for a novel benefiting the Children’s Hospital here in New York.’”  
  
“New York?” Gus finally gasped out.  
  
“Yes, buddy, New York.” Shawn threw an arm around Gus’ shoulder. “I can just imagine how excited Ricky’s police buddies are going to be to meet us.”

* * *

“You want to bring the psychic here?” Kate Beckett’s face was unreadable as she stared at Castle.  
  
“He’d be here so I could do some extra research.” Castle pointed out.  
  
“You can always shoot him if he gets out of hand,” Esposito pointed out as he sipped his coffee.  
  
“Yeah, or lock him in the car with Castle.” Ryan shot the writer a grin and ducked the wad of paper tossed at his head.  
  
“I’m not locking anyone in the car.” Beckett rolled her eyes. “I just don’t like the idea of a psychic helping us solve cases, even if I did believe in that stuff.”  
  
“Now, I know it’s unorthodox, but Beckett,” Castle continued, putting on his best puppy dog eyes. “It’s for the kids.”


End file.
